


stuck in my head, stuck in my heart

by orphan_account



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: what is love





	stuck in my head, stuck in my heart

When Griffin found Nick, he was curled up at the corner of his bed in their shared hotel room, bundled childlike up in the sheets, face hidden. After the noise and the babble of the conference, the room was almost too quiet, silent except for the faint noise of Nick’s shaky breathing. Griffin slipped his shoes off, crouching quietly by the side of the bed where Nick lay. 

“Nick?” he whispered. “You okay, man?” 

There was no response. 

Worry formed a knot in Griffin’s stomach - he leaned in, resting his head on the side of the bed. “What’s going on, Nick?” 

From under the sheets, a faint voice came, almost imperceptible. 

“Why are you here?” whispered Nick. 

“Well,” Griffin stammered, caught off guard by the question, “You left the panel really quickly and you looked kind of upset, and I didn’t know if you were-” 

“No,” Nick whispered, “why are you _here,_ Griffin. Why are you here with me. Of all people.”

“Nick,” Griffin started, but was quickly cut off by Nick, who seemed to have found his voice.

“Griffin, I met more gifted, talented, incredible people here today than I could possibly count. They’re game changers. They have big, beautiful ideas. They’re everywhere, and they want to work with people to make those dreams come true. They’re so amazing, Griffin, they’re so-” His voice cracked, and he slipped into silence for a long moment before continuing in a much quieter voice. 

“Why would you choose me?” 

Something ached in Griffin’s chest. Under the sheets, Nick’s shoulders were shaking, almost imperceptibly. With a gentle hand, Griffin pulled the sheets back until a messy head of dark hair was visible, then Nick’s eyes, teary and squeezed tightly shut against Griffin’s gaze. 

“Nick,” he whispered. “Nick, please. Look into my eyes. What do you see?” 

Nick cracked a single eye. “Blue,” he murmured shakily. 

Griffin laughed softly, leaning in to kiss Nick’s forehead. “That’s true, I guess. But what I meant to say was that I saw everyone out there. I saw those groundbreakers and all the designers and innovators and _geniuses_ I could ever imagine, and you know what? They were super cool.” He pulled back to look at Nick again, eyes soft. “But I didn’t love them, Nick. They were amazing but they were like a painting, or a statue, kinda scary in their coolness, you know? They were amazing, but I didn’t love them.” 

He drew closer again, pressing another kiss to Nick’s cheek, his eyelashes, the tip of his nose. “I love _you,_ Nick,” he whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

And Nick was crying again, but it wasn’t out of fear. It wasn’t out of loneliness. He laughed as the tears welled up in his eyes, because Griffin’s kisses tickled, and because Griffin loved _him,_ and nothing could change that, nothing at all.


End file.
